


Somewhere In The Background

by HiMiTSu



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam's self-worth issues, Cinderella AU, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Romance, a ball, past Adam Parrish/Blue Sargent, very minor background Blue/Gansey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiMiTSu/pseuds/HiMiTSu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a prince and there is a ball and everyone is invited and Adam is not surprised when Calla announces, “Blue, you are going.”</p><p>Persephone catches his eye over Orla’s mop of dark hair, tilts her head to the side. Under the gaze of her clear blue eyes he feels favored. “Adam will go too.” She says suddenly. Her voice is soft and even but it carries perfectly. Everyone turns to look, first at Persephone, then at Adam.</p><p>“Alright,” Calla nods and turns back to the cards.</p><p>They don’t make a big deal out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adam

**Author's Note:**

> This was born out of my crazy desire to write Adam Parrish and Pynch. Also started as a Cinderella AU but evolved somewhere in the middle. It turned out longer than I was planning, otherwise I wouldn't have written it in Present tense. Anyway I hope you will find it interesting. And if you enjoyed the story please let me know:)
> 
> I tried to change my style according to the medieval setting, also that's why Fox Way lost it's number. I was finishing and editing the story long after I finished the books so let me know it I messed up any personal details.
> 
> There is a lot of intropspection, mostly because I was mostly interested in Adam and his thoughts when I started.
> 
> EDIT 14/09: I realized that my first decision to end the story there was a mistake:) So there will be at least one more chapter.

Adam Parrish is not the main hero of this story. Adam Parrish is not the type. Tall but gangly he does not make a dashing figure, neither on a horse nor with a sword. Hair the color of summer dust and eyes the color of autumn sky, washed out and inconspicuous. Boring with his talk of books and math, with his pragmatism and single-minded desire to be something more. Cares about politics of the countries too far away from his reach

Adam has no interest in tournaments and knights, though he knows the members of all the noble families residing in Henrietta. It’s not something he learnt, it something he _knows_ because he hears their names and titles on every corner, because his memory picks it up like crumbles in the dirt and won’t let him forget. Always a reminder of what he is not. Important. Powerful. Needed.

Every day is a fight and still he just puddles in the mud, always in one place.

No family and only one friend. That’s not too bad. Just the year before he had a family and no friends. Now he evened the score. It’s good. It’s actually better. To have one friend.

Blue Sargent would make a great main character, he thinks. Beautiful and lively, fearlessly she chooses her own path. She is confident, she is her own person. Her own person. Isn’t that nice?

He used to be in love with her; so much it hurt even when she admitted she liked him back. That did not work out though. Adam wasn’t surprised. She just didn’t like him _enough_ to fall in love with him. It’s fine. (It’s not). Adam understands. (He really does).

So when there is a prince and there is a ball and everyone is invited he is not surprised when Calla announces, “Blue, you are going.”

Blue protests but she is excited, hiding it well under the resentment. “To dance along with those nobles?” She says it like it’s the most horrible disease on earth, being noble born.

“Yes,” Maura insists. “We already started making a dress. It’s going to be beautiful.”

Calla smirks at Blue in a way that prevents any further protest. They all know she wants to go; her act is not fooling anyone. Orla is also excited and it’s the only thing she can talk about. It’s not surprising when she brings her tarot deck and spreads the cards on the table in the reading room. She doesn’t ask any complicated questions, even she knows how ridiculous it would be to ask if she’s going to marry a prince, but the older women hang around to watch her reading. They nod and smile at the small meaningless predictions, ‘The duchess will be wearing green. She always looks horrible in green’ and ‘One of the knights is going to get terribly drunk and make a spectacle of himself’ and ‘one of the nobles is going to be hiding out in the garden all evening – the poor thing’. Blue stands back, torn between her resentment for Orla and her curiosity about the reading. Adam has half a mind to offer her a personal reading later but he knows she will blush and insist aggressively that she does not need one.

Adam hangs back as well. He still feels like a stranger at the Fox Way; the house is big and he had been offered a place under its roof many times. But in the end they got tired of his polite refusals and stopped asking. And still he feels out of place. But that’s nothing new. Adam always feels out of place.

Persephone catches his eye over Orla’s mop of dark hair, tilts her head to the side. Under the gaze of her clear blue eyes he feels favored. “Adam will go too.” She says suddenly. Her voice is soft and even but it carries perfectly. Everyone turns to look, first at Persephone, then at Adam.

“Alright,” Calla nods and turns back to the cards.

They don’t make a big deal out of it.

“Oh, thank god. I won’t have to suffer alone.” Blue’s relief is palpable in the air.

Adam doesn’t bother reminding that she wasn’t going to be alone any way. Strangely, he feels excitement build up in his chest.

It drains almost all his funds, the meager saving he has from helping out at the blacksmiths, but he gets a nicer attire. Blue helps him out by sewing some lace to it but he has to stop her before the whole suits becomes overcrowded by it. Persephone brings him a pin; it’s an ornate thing, masterfully crafted in the shape of vines and leaves crowned by an emerald. She puts it in his neckerchief and promises that it will bring him luck. Her smile is a dash mysterious and her gaze trained on truths far away – Adam never truly knows what she is thinking about. But he thanks her for the pin wholeheartedly. It is a thing of beauty and he enjoys a touch of something wonderful to him.

Blue makes herself a dress. It is bright and colorful and with so much lace and scraps of pretty fabrics just sawn to the skirt she looks like a storm of patterns. She looks eccentric but lovely. Adam escorts her to a simple carriage, courtesy of Mr. Grey, Maura’s admirer. Orla climbs in as well, her dress more somber compared to Blue’s and created according to the latest fashion. Adam feels a bout of unnecessary anxiety, some strange hope building up, and squanders it viciously.

“This is going to be wonderful!” Orla exclaims excitedly and Adam nods stiffly and turns away, fighting nausea.

What is he even doing here? It’s not the first time the question pops up in his head but so close to the ball, to actually walking into the palace and mingling with simple and noble folk alike it feels like a heavy weight pressing down on him. Like he can fool anyone; with the fancy dress and clean hands like it won’t be obvious where he comes from. From the dirt below their feet, right where he will spend the rest of his life. There is no way to work your up to nobility, not from where he started. Still he believes in hard work and earning his place in life and he plans on opening his own shop some day. Lately he had been thinking that selling herbs and simple potions would be a good idea. The women of Fox Way did it from time to time in small amounts but Adam’s practical mind suggested that he could turn it into something profitable. Though even if that plan works out in the future Adam will be nowhere near the riches and respect of the noble families. So for him, this sudden entertainment, one that has both Orla and Blue enthralled is nothing but a game. He would have preferred to stay at home and study if not for Persephone. Persephone always knew what she was doing but never bothered to explain herself to anyone.

“Look, here is the castle!” Orla’s shrill cry brings Adam back from his thoughts and he, pulled in by the girls’ curiosity cranes his neck to look out the window. It is truly a magnificent castle, massive and imposing, its tall towers lit up by dozens and dozens of candles so it shines like a beacon in the upcoming darkness. It’s beautiful in its own way, the strength of the heavy stone and the protection it promises, not only to the lucky ones inside but to the lands stretching far and wide around it. The royal family is well known for their favors for the landowners and townsfolk around.

They join the procession of carriages and cross the drawbridge, which brings them into the inner yard of the castle. The gates will be open for the whole evening, so that every guest, poor and wealthy can go as they please. It’s a nice gesture, Adam thinks but they are not fooling anyone with promises that the young prince will be choosing his bride freely. It’s a lovely fairy tale though and it doesn’t hurt if some believes in it, if only for one night.

Orla’s eyes are sparkling as she descends from the carriage, a page dressed in gold livery is helping her out and directing their group up the large stone staircase. Adam hangs behind, self-conscious of his simple attire, but the girls are not to be deterred and Blue grabs his hand and drags him after her. He feels a little better after noticing some low class people in the crowd and how effortlessly the most expensive fabrics exist right by the cheapest wool.

Grand doors open right into the main hall of the castle where a crowd is already gathered, but Orla weaves through the groups of nobles and peasants with single-minded determination and leads them to the ballroom as if she already knows the castle better than the back of her hand. She breathes a pleased sigh, surveying the mass of dancing bodies, and proclaims. “Well, you are on your own now.” With that she disappears into the crowd, no doubt in search of a suitable dance partner.

Blue hovers on the outskirts of the dance floor, uncertain. She glances at him, “Would you like to dance?” She sounds unsure, maybe because she remembers of Adam’s feeling for her; they are long gone, blossomed into a true friendship but sometimes she still treats him like he is made of glass, or maybe just because she isn’t that good at dancing. Adam nods and offers his hand: nothing else to do here anyway. They make circles around the floor, Adam navigating them around other dancing couples, and it feels nice. Blue’s steps are a little off, but she fights down her shyness with sheer stubbornness and Adam helps out but correcting her course and taking a step just a little to the side before she can stomp on his foot. She gets better after a couple dances and they take a break to get some refreshments, after which Adam deems her ready to dance with some other patrons.

He is not the main hero of this story, Adam knows as he slips away into the gardens, but with the lights of the castle shining over him and the music washing away any differences between the guests, that maybe, just maybe it can be a fairy tale for his friend. He catches a glimpse of Blue dancing with a dashing young man, the couple slowly becoming the center of attention for the other guests, and hopes.

The gardens provide a breath of fresh air; Adam strolls down the path of what seems to be an endless maze. He is a little cautious, worried about getting lost, but curiosity leads him forward anyway. For the first time during the night he feels truly engrossed in something. He runs his fingers over the sharp leaves of the hedge as he goes, as if it could lead a trail for him to return by. It can’t, but he likes the feeling, likes the earthy smell of the trees around him and the soft path under his feet and the faintest hint of flowers he catches in the air. The soft darkness of the maze envelops him, comforting instead of fearsome. He moves further still.

There is a little oasis of light in the passage to his right and he turns to it in wonder. The maze opens up to give way to a larger chamber, a fountain and a bench making a lovely arrangement for tired wonderers. Fire burning in a couple of torches casts a soft glow on the whole scene.

It’s serene and lovely and Adam moves towards it, pulled by the cozy feeling of it. He settles on the edge of the fountain, dips his hand in the water. It’s cold. He smiles.

“Who the hell are you?”

Adam startles and almost falls into the fountain, leaning over it as he is, and whirls to face the angry voice. A young man, his sharp features and angry eyes faintly familiar, is staring back at him expectantly. He is half reclined on the bench; must have been here when I arrived, Adam realizes with building trepidation. The young man’s clothes are simple but made from expensive fabrics and studded with real jewels. A nobleman.

“I was just passing by,” Adam replies calmly, not letting any caution he feels into his voice. After all he has as much right to be here as the other man.

Eyes, sharp and attentive, look him over and then their intense gaze fixes on Adam’s face. He squints suspiciously, “You look familiar.”

Adam is at a loss as how to reply. “I doubt you’d know me.” He retorts a touch tersely. He recognized the young man now, the crest on his cloak but most of all the contained fury in his every gesture and the bright blue of his eyes. Ronan Lynch, a descendant of one of the biggest and most influential houses of Henrietta. It does not bode well for Adam to anger a man like that. Still he feels irritation simmering under his skin.

Lynch peers at him in silence some more before performing a very convincing shrug. Adam is not fooled though; still he sees no reason for the nobleman’s pretend indifference.

“No matter,” with that Lynch looks away. “What is your name?”

Adam hesitates, unsure and suspicious, but there is no way to leave the question unanswered. “Adam Parrish. I…” And he doesn’t really know what to say. He is so many things and yet he is nothing of what he wants to be. He is a scholar with no school, he assists the blacksmith and works at the bookshop, he does so many odd jobs he can’t recall all them at once. None of that would seem impressive to Ronan Lynch. So he lets the sentence trail away, hang there with all the tension in the air. Turns away too, looks at the rippled waters of the fountain. The surface is dark, no way to tell how deep it goes, but the fire plays tricks on its surface, glints and flares chasing each other. Water runs, light wind rustles the leaves overhead, it’s a soft melody of the night. Adam hears Ronan Lynch breathe and it’s a strange addition to this tune existing only in Adam’s head, but not unwelcome.

Adam wonders if he should leave, go on with his exploration, but the interest is gone, like he had already found his destination. A crow shrieks through the night, he looks up involuntary, eyes searching for the bird. But his view is limited, obscured by the branches and he sees nothing.

“Why are you here?” Lynch’s voice cuts through the still air like a sword.

Adam bristles, “The castle is open for everyone tonight.” His tone is even but with enough bite to it to make Lynch face him.

“I meant,” Lynch says slowly. “Why are you hiding in the gardens?”

Suddenly shamed Adam looks down; his cheeks are flaming and even the cold air does nothing to ease his flush. Defensive, he shoots back, “Why are you?”

“I hate parties.” The way he says it – Adam feels a deeper story hiding underneath. So he gives a little push.

“That’s all?”

Lynch’s eyes narrow at him, clearly displeased, but he replies, “I hate Gansey at parties.”

“Gansey?” Adam is momentarily thrown. Then he catches himself with a barely audible gasp. “You mean Prince Richard?”

Lynch just shrugs. It’s hard to hide how this little dialogue affects him, but such a level of familiarity is truly astonishing. Even just hearing it makes Adam’s blood send a single strand of fear to his heart. Lynch smirks, like he knows this, and it ignites a fire in Adam’s heart.

“So you don’t like the heir?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“What’s the difference then?”

“He’s just boring when he’s all sociable and shit.”

It startles a laugh out of Adam, short and unexpected, and Lynch’s smirk stretches into a smile. Adam can get in trouble for this; he can be thrown to the dungeons for this small moment of elation, having fun at the expense of the heir to the crown. If Lynch decides he had grown bored he can throw Adam in actual danger but somehow…Adam is not scared. He is cautious, true, he always is, but he feels a connection, trust that is just so atypical for him.

“So you hide here during all parties?” He asks, playing casual.

“No each one.” Lynch scoffs. “Sometimes you just can’t escape Gansey. I got lucky tonight. The idiot got distracted by some girl.” The way he says it is as if the very idea is so alien to him. Adam doesn’t understand. He had enough distractions like that in his life, Blue being the biggest one so far, and he mostly had to fight against those. To study instead of staring at how Blue’s crazy hair get messed up by wind, or how light hits her eyes. To turn away from her pretty profile and go on with his work. He finds Ronan Lynch distracting as well.

“And usually I hide out near the barns.” Lynch says suddenly. “Just felt like coming here tonight…” He stretches back on the stone bench, hand under his head, and stares at the sky. Adam steals a glance at the stars as well, shining jewels so out of his reach, and lowers his gaze to study the other boy. Lynch is certainly handsome. Features sharp and body strong; he probably makes an impressive knight, but then again Adam had never seen him at tournaments. He has a built of a fighter and there is a dangerous darkness to his eyes that speaks of experience – that man had been in more than one battle, and probably came out a victor every time.

Lynch turns suddenly, catches Adam staring. There is a moment, before Adam hurries to look away, when their gazes lock and he is captivated. A shock runs through him, it burns and freezes all the same, makes his heart beat fast. He averts his eyes, but his cheeks burn and he finds it hard to breathe. It is strange, mostly in how sudden it comes over him. But Adam knows he is not alone in this.

He stays by the fountain some more, exchanging snarky lines intermitted by actual conversation. The evening flies by and, even though Adam is sitting on the granite edge of the fountain and Lynch is sprawled all over the bench, the atmosphere is intimate. He feels closer to this boy than to any other person. Hidden by the darkness on their personal nook of the garden they get to know each other. Lynch’s tones and movements speak louder than his brash words and Adam is intrigued; entertained he tries to work the young man out. The cloud of mystery that follows the middle Lynch brother is just that – a smoke, created by his careless attitude and isolation from even his peers. Adam sees through: a soul alone that does not want to be lonely. But he also sees a strong spirit, and maybe he uses his gift a little as well to understand more of what is hidden.

His eyes stray when he is sure Lynch is not looking, fixing on a new detail every time. Adam is restless. He dips his fingers in the cool water and splashes the beautiful pale pink lilies decorating the fountain. They sway to the lullaby that is Ronan’s voice just as Adam’s mind drifts with his tone, mesmerized despite himself. This feels magical even though he knows there is no actual magic in the air. He splashes the water some more and then, suddenly daring, cups a handful of cold water and throws it at drowsing Ronan. The other shouts in shock and rushes to his feet. Adam laughs. He laughs and laughs until his sides hurt and his face is tired from smiling. And then he laughs some more when he hears Ronan join him. He doesn’t understand yet this lightness in his chest.

He doesn’t know when ‘Lynch’ turned into ‘Ronan’ either.

The sounds of the ball could not be heard here, but the chime of the clock on the royal tower reaches Adam even in this isolated corner. The clock strikes twelve and just like that the warmth leaves him. It’s a reminder of the outside world; of the harsh reality he had involuntary forgotten when he got lost in the maze. The real world awaits and by tomorrow Adam will have nothing but a memory of this moment; whether he will cherish or curse it he is not yet sure.

“I need to go,” he says, careful not to sound regretful.

Ronan doesn’t ask him to stay, just looks back steady. Adam feels the need to explain, “I promised to meet my friend for a journey back. It’s time.” He might be imagining it, but Ronan’s expression softens.

“I guess, this is…Fare well.” He doesn’t know what else to say and Ronan just watches him, motionless, expressionless.

Adam turns on his heels and hurries out.

“See you soon, Adam Parrish!” Ronan shouts in his stead and Adam’s steps falter, unsure.

Then he flees.

He meets Blue by the gates, lurking in shadow as if hiding from someone. He would not have noticed her if not for Orla hanging just a step away, brightly lit by the castle lights.

“Is everything alright?” Adam asks, his own worry forgotten. Blue scowls at him but he sees hurt behind the anger as she grabs his hand and starts dragging him away. The carriage is already waiting and she scrambles up first without waiting for any help. Adam escort Orla in first and gets in after her, hurried by Blue’s command.

“What happened?” He asks, glancing from one girl to another.

Orla lifts her eyes brows slyly and smiles lazily.

Blue answers in a voice so small he has to strains to hear the words. “He tried to kiss me.”

The thing is shocking on its own but Adam asks still. “Who?”

Blue buries her face in her hands, a scream of frustration muffled barely. Oral replies gleefully. “The Prince!”

Adam stares at them both, trying to comprehend. Things are going to change, he realizes with sudden clarity. The events were set into motion: something they all knew was coming but disregarded carelessly anyway. Did they even have any power over their own lives?

“It’s alright,” Blue mutters. It looks like she is dragging herself out of that state. “It’s not like I’ll ever see him again.”

She looks at Adam, determined and unmovable. Sometimes he envies her strength. And then it cracks and she bites her lip and asks, seeking reassurance. “Right?”

Adam’s mind flashes back to the maze garden, the fountain with black water and a pair of intense blue eyes. He draws his own determination from Blue’s. “Right.”


	2. Ronan

There are three houses on a street known as Fox Way. One in the middle belongs to a potter and his family; it’s a neat small house, which is kept nice and tidy by his wife and three daughters. The first house on the street, closest to the market place is a butcher’s shop. It has a crowd always gathered at the front, grown up and little kids alike.

And then the last one, known as just the house on Fox Way, belongs to a family of witches. Overflown with women the house almost bursts at the seams and it’s impossible to say how many people actually live there; they come and go, some stay for just a night before continuing on their journey, some stay forever, having found a new home. No one would dare to call any of the inhabitants a witch to her face, but that’s what the rumors say, whispers in the dark, spreading from ear to ear both as a warning and as a promise.

Ronan had always been cautious of the place. His family treats religion with due respect and so Ronan and his brothers had been properly warned against witchcraft and the evil it was capable of. The women of Fox Way did not seem evil to him, especially not when they actually helped the townsfolk; it looked like there wasn’t much they could do, but even a good advice can be worth more than gold.

So, cautious but never truly scared Ronan avoided the inhabitants of the Fox Way house, even after he found out what his father was, even after discovering his own gift.  Ronan didn’t care for those witches. Until he met Adam Parrish.

‘Meeting’ is probably a too strong a word for noticing an attractive young man in the crowd, but that was what had actually happened and Ronan will forever remember this moment. It happens at a church, of all places; the bulk of the Fox Way population attend every Sunday and one of such days they bring along a new face. Some people whisper behind their backs, how the young man is a runaway from home, arrived from another village two days ago. Everyone is weary of him, but he blends in with the crowd and later proves himself to be a hardworking lad. The talks die down but Ronan’s interest only grows.

He learns from Matthew that the new comer helps out at the local school, teaching the younger kids, and that he does every job available, from working for the blacksmith to organizing books at the town’s small library. He is also friends with the women of Fox Way. That might have been the only curious thing about him if not for his stormy blue eyes, cold and uninterested but capable of real fire, his thin lips bitten until they are bright red, his sharp features, gaunt but attractive, and even sharper tongue and quick wit. Ronan doesn’t know what to do with this sudden attraction except watch from afar and stay blessedly unnoticed, for he has no idea how to react if Adam Parrish were to ever acknowledge his existence. It’s ridiculous how he, a member of a high ranking family with influence and money, how he, a skilled fighter who prefers tavern brawls to knight tournaments because those have no rules, how he, a man on his own who needs no one and is only stronger for it…is reduced to this brooding shadow that can just look but never touch.

The townsfolk is very accepting of their lords, courtesy of their just rulers, but Ronan sees the determined set to Adam’s jaw and the steel determination in his eyes, and just knows his casual advances will be rebuked; politely, carefully but rebuked nonetheless.

Ronan gets into another bar fight just to let out his frustrations. It feels great, to swing punch after punch, mind free of Gansey’s romantic notions. The idiot prince had got into his head that he wants to find his true love and thus won’t agree to an arranged marriage. And the most astounding is this: the King and Queen will most likely let him since he not the heir to the throne and the whole family loves him to death…He is going to throw his stupid ball, and act all charming and impersonal and only get disappointed when he doesn’t meet _the one_. Ronan scoffs and kicks his opponent in the shin to throw him off balance. It works and he finishes off the thug with a punch in the face. The man stumbles back into the table. He is not getting up to fight again. Not going to be pickpocketing honest citizens either.

Ronan stretches his back, muscles sore, and licks at the cut on his lip. It’s shallow but will be a bother for the next couple of days. It will heal by the time of the ball. Pity.

There are not many things that interest Ronan in this life. He likes fights, revels in how they make his blood rush and his mind clear. He loves his younger brother, the only person he feels close to in the world ever since their father died during his travels. He likes Gansey, at least the side of him that the prince does not show to the public, a real side. He enjoys riding his horse, a young strong steed that Ronan had since he was merely a foal. He wonders sometimes, whether the horse is actually real. He likes his bird, a crow – that one unquestionably a creation of his own dreams, an extension of his mind.

He likes Adam Parrish, a man he doesn’t know but still feels a connection to. Gansey would have been over-joyed if he knew; he would babble of young hearts and love at first sight and Ronan would have to hit him over the head to make him stop. So he says nothing. He evades all the questions and shows an unsurprising lack of enthusiasm about the ball. He is not going to seek out his true love that night. Gansey is. And a strange, sentimental part of Ronan hopes his friend will succeed.

So Ronan is in no way prepared for what happens. He doesn’t know how to react. Ronan doesn’t know what _is_ _happening_. He only knows Adam Parrish, and his grey eyes, wide with surprise, and his pink lips forming a small ‘o’ of astonishment, and his handsome startled face closer than Ronan had seen it yet. Ronan hates not knowing what to do so he attacks and then retreats when it becomes obvious that Parrish will not be cowered by his words. Ronan relaxes then and spends the time getting to know one person he truly is interested in.

Parrish turns out to be different from what Ronan imagined, more concerned with social norms for one and also with a touch of insecurity to his strength. It makes him more real, more like a human he is than a fantasy Rona had constructed. He also has a dry sense of humor and a sharp smile, and he is clever, but that Ronan knew already. He is cautious but refuses to back down. He plays up his confidence and shrouds himself in righteous anger when Ronan mentions a touchy subject. He smiles brightly and laughs easily and splashes Ronan’s formal attire without a hint of regret. He is perfect and his name is Adam and Ronan is free to use it any time now.

Adam runs away when the clock strikes midnight, and if that is not enough like a fairy tale Ronan’s mother used to tell, he leaves something behind.

Ronan notices a golden glint in the grass and peers at it curiously. He picks it up, careful of the sharp edge, and sees the object to be a pin that must have been decorating Adam’s tie. It is a lovely thing, skillfully crafted and turned into a shape of a leaf, a jagged little heart blown by a breeze from a birch tree. But the shape is bent and the point is broken off, a jewel is missing from its bed at the top. Still, Ronan cradles it carefully in his hand. He doesn’t want to let go of this minuscule link to Adam. He knows already he will be returning the pin to its owner, unbroken.

He finds Gansey after the ball is over, not sure yet if he is ready to tell his story, but seeking his friend’s company nonetheless.

“How was your evening?”

Gansey heaves a sigh and holds a theatrical pause. He is lying on the bed, still in full regalia, hands spread wide over the covers. “Wonderful.”

“Really?” Ronan asks, letting skepticism take over.

“I think I found her.”

“Who?”

“Her.”

The emphasis kind of helps, but Ronan will not play along with Gansey’s fantasy. “Who?” He asks again, more harshly.

“My perfect bride.”

There is no delicate way to ask the next question so Ronan doesn’t even try. “How the hell do you know?”

“I just…know.” Gansey waves a hand and the multitude of golden buttons decorating his suit clang noisily. “I feel it. A connection between the two of us that supersedes worlds and generations. One True Love.”

Gansey is being overly dramatic and Ronan doesn’t hesitate to point that out. It always helps to bring him down to earth. “I guess…” He mumbles into the coverlet. Then sits up in one quick motion. “I know, I know…But I do feel like there might be something.” He admits seriously. “I will have to get to know her better though.”

“Alright.” Ronan concedes. It’s not like he had a chance of changing Gansey’s mind in the first place.

“What about you?”

“What?”

“Did you have a good time tonight?”

Ronan, acutely aware of the pin in his breast pocket, suddenly can’t look Gansey in the eye. He glances at his hands. “Yeah…”

He knows he will be dreaming tonight.

It turns out to be a more challenging task than Ronan originally imagined. The design on the pin is complicated and the craftsmanship is exquisite; Ronan wonders even where a young man of Adam’s station could have gotten such a beautiful thing. Ronan also does not know the original design, he is guessing and making some details up simply based on the pieces he has. The birch tree leaf is the easiest part, despite the ragged edges, but then he is stuck with the sharp end. Is it simply straight or is it twisted? Each dream Ronan tries out a different version until he has the one that feels right. A top drawer of his desk is filled with little golden pins by the time the morning comes, but still he is not finished. Ronan does not know what the color of the gem was, he can only imagine it should be green. But when Ronan wakes up, the sun already high up and he is feeling more tired than the previous evening, the pin he holds in his hand  has a jewel the color of autumn sky. It’s blue with speckles of grey, cold but it glints beautifully in the morning sunlight – and Ronan knows he finally got it right.

He sleeps for the rest of the day, but in the evening Gansey invades his rooms and makes himself at home. Ronan tries to push him away when his friend tugs the covers from him and proceeds to describe his whole day, step by tortuous step. Ronan has no qualms about throwing Gansey out, even though they are at the royal castle, but by the time Gansey starts retelling his morning talk with Helen Ronan just can’t go back to sleep. He is wide awake and he is restless.

“Let’s go into the town.”

The offer throws Gansey off; he falters for a moment before asking tentatively. “Are you going to get into another tavern brawl? Because you know I’d prefer not to be present for that.” There is enough reproach in his voice to make Ronan avert his gaze, but not enough for him to start apologizing. He knows how Gansey regards such past-time, so Ronan, tired of lingering after-taste of guilt, stopped telling him about those kinds of adventures long ago.

“No.” Ronan insists, but he sees the distrust in Gansey’s eyes. “Just tired of been cooped up in the castle all day.”

“You’ve been sleeping all day,” Gansey remarks, but he is smiling.

“And now I want to go for a walk. Don’t tell me you don’t want to see where your ‘true love’ lives?” He makes sure to add extra sarcasm for the fear of being taken seriously.

“You…”

“Were actually paying attention? Surprisingly, yes. Come on.”

Ronan doesn’t have to repeat himself, Gansey follows enthusiastically after that. They make a stop at the Prince’s chambers so that his majesty can take a shabby cloak he keeps for sneaking it. It does not help Gansey blend in as much as the other hopes, but it is better than the royal robes, so Ronan gives him that.  It would have been better to go on foot, less conspicuous, but it’s just a few hours before sundown and traveling back without the horses would be too dangerous. So Ronan saddles his steed, while Gansey is coaxing his mare out of the stables. She has a mind of her, a capricious girl, but she is trusty and had been with Gansey since he was little. He would not exchange her for anything.

Ronan might be ignorant and egocentric, but he is a good friend, so he already knows who Gansey’s love interest is, moreover he is perfectly aware where to find her. He knows the way to the Fox Way house by heart, could probably make it in his sleep, despite never actually been inside or even close to it.

The house is the last on the street, right on the village border, after it – only the fields and the forest. A lush garden stretches behind it, lovely trees and beautiful flower beds and rows upon rows of different herbs. Each tenant adds something of their own to the garden and so it is an eccentric mix of calming teas, decorative flowers and some poisonous vines. Ronan thinks it too much, preferring simplicity to over-complication in every aspect of his life, but Gansey loves it. The prince does not hesitate to voice his appreciation and the two women eye him suspiciously from the porch.

“Evening, lovely ladies!” He exclaims as soon as he notices them and Ronan cringes from Gansey’s tone. The idiot sounds so pretentious, but he truly means each word. “I wish to see a young lady by the mane of Blue.” He gives a little bow, gets off his horse, and graces them with a shining smile. Ronan hangs back and waits.

“What do you want with her?” One of the women asks, brashly.

Gansey is not deterred. “Merely to see her and speak with her.”

Ronan loses interest when the other woman steps up, a willowy blond who smiles at Gansey absently but friendly. They strike a cordial conversation and Ronan uses it as the chance to slip away. He leaves his horse at the front of the house, confident she won’t wander off, and makes his way along the fence to the back where the garden is. Apple trees obscure it from view from the side of the village, giving a little privacy to the figure hunched over the lavender flowers.

Ronan creeps closer and observes him for a while, concentrated on the task. Bony fingers methodically pick the flowers, carefully lay them into a basket at his elbow.

“Are you just going to hide there and watch?” Adam lifts his head, catching Ronan off guard. A smirk tugs the corners of his lips, just a touch devious and teasing, more than enough to make Ronan lose his breath. The young man looked beautiful the night before, in a modest but official attire, but like this, sun in his eyes and green on his fingers, even the dirt in his hair – it makes him look _impossible_. Like a boy one with nature and with the world around him. Like one of Ronan’s dreams.

“You run fast,” Ronan commented, mocking in his voice to cover up the awe.

“So what, you decided to chase me down?” Adam asks with humor, but his eyes are guarded and tone cautious.

“Not really,” Ronan brushes him off. He jumps over the fence and approaches the flower beds. Adam doesn’t protest so he sits near him on the grass. The garden is lovely – he had seen it from afar many times, but being here is like actually stepping into a fantasy. The green stretches as far as he can see, a field behind the garden and then the forest, which is as much home for Ronan as the Lynch family estate. Sun is still bright but it is cool in the shade of the trees. Light summer wind brings to him scents of many flowers and herbs, all mixed together, intoxicating. The same smell Adam always carries with him.

And Adam Parrish, right at his side, still hesitant but relaxed now that they are on his own grounds. He wears confidence like a shield everywhere he goes, but Ronan had been watching Adam for so long, he feels like he knows the insecurities hidden underneath.

“Gansey is here.” Ronan says abruptly, and watches for the second time how Adam’s expressions shifts from incomprehension to surprise to outright shock.

“The Prince?” He asks through the clump in his throat. Without waiting for a confirmation, he rushes through more questions. “Why? What does he want here? Is the whole Guard here?”

“He is in disguise.” Ronan replies but he can’t quite stop the wince that comes with it. “So he thinks at least. Everyone still recognizes him, but they just pretend they don’t.”

“Isn’t it dangerous?”

It’s sweet how Adam’s mind skips his immediate concern to spare a thought the royal well-being. Ronan squanders the thought immediately and buries it under a nice layer of self-denial, only then he scoffs. “Gansey will be fine. He doesn’t wander off too far.” Adam’s reaction is still amusing, so Ronan adds. “Also he is not actually the heir to the throne. A kidnapping or two might actually do him some good.”

“And here goes my head…”

“Huh?”

“You get arrested for treason, thrown to the stocks, then prison and locked up in some tower for the rest of your life. Without freedom but with relative comfort. I get arrested as a conspirator, executed.”

It takes a moment for Ronan to catch up but after noticing a smirk on Adam’s lips he roars with laughter. “Don’t worry,” he offers some comfort as soon as he can properly speak again. “I’ll take you to my tower with me.” It’s a promise that sits too close to home, but Ronan hopes Adam will take as a joke it was originally intended.

Adam laughs with him and feels brave enough to chunk a flower at Ronan’s head. That only makes him laugh harder and he picks up another daisy to throw in Ronan’s face – a height of maturity and grace. Ronan doesn’t hesitate pointing it out, but he enjoys the carefree moment just as well.

“So why is the Prince here?” Adam asks once the merry laughter dies down and they are sitting in comfortable silence.

“Chasing some maiden he met at the ball.” Ronan picks at the loose strand on Adam’s wooden basket, doesn’t dare to look up even when he hears Adam snort.

“I can’t believe you just said ‘maiden’.”

“Oh really,” now Ronan lift his gaze, challenge in his eyes and a dangerous smile on his face. They come easily here, the smiles.

“Yes,” Adam insists. He is twisting a daisy by a stem in his hands, but it doesn’t look like he is planning on throwing this one.

Ronan huffs but before he can come up with a protest Adam speaks up again. He sounds serious this time. “What is the Prince going to do?”

“About what?”

“This girl he met at the ball.” The tone is even, flat almost – more than any tremble it alarms Ronan to the importance of the subject. He doesn’t know how to respond though, he has no idea what is going through Gansey head right now.

“He’ll get her presents?” He ventures. It sound stupid and he is tempted to turn this into another joke, but Adam bites on his bottom lip, worried, and the idea leaves as soon as it had come to him. He shrugs instead.

“Will he really do it?”

“What?”

“Marry a commoner? Will he be allowed to? Is he even that serious?”

“He seemed pretty serious to me.” Ronan admits. Even if he doesn’t always understand his best friend, the moods of the prince are usually easy to pick on. “And, why not?”

Adam sends him a side-long glance and quickly avert his eyes when Ronan tries to meet him head on.

“Ages of noble history prove how difficult that can be.”

“Ages of history have nothing to do with the present.”

At Adam’s unexpected astonished laugh he amends, “Not with this at least.”

“Good to know you are not disregarding history completely.”

“The King and Queen will allow it, I’m pretty sure. Honestly though, nobody is talking about a wedding yet. Gansey can be a romantic idiot but he won’t rush into anything. He just met the girl, he fancies himself in love, but he just wants to get to know her first.”

“A date with a Prince,” Adam mutters thoughtfully.

“Something like that.”

“What happens if he decides he want to marry her, but the girl in question doesn’t want to.”

Ronan groans, just imagining the scenarios is giving him a headache. “He will be impossible to talk to; all melancholic and broken hearted and shit…”

“He won’t push her?” Adam’s sharp gaze is quick to fix on Ronan, gauging how truthful the reply will be.

“Of course he won’t.”

Ronan isn’t sure how convincing he is, but the indignation comes involuntary and it seems to satisfy Adam, who nods and turns back to look at the scenery, relaxed once again. “This doesn’t explain why you are here, though.”

Ronan watches a flower in his hands, twisting and twisting, the stem worn out already and leaving traces of green on Adam’s fingers. They are long and thin, elegant like Ronan’s music teacher used to have; except Ronan didn’t want to kiss his music teacher’s fingers as much as he longs to press his lips to Adam’s. Feel them tremble under his touch. Would Adam welcome it or would he be repulsed and indignant and ask Ronan to leave, his voice polite but cold as ice? Will Ronan have enough courage to find out?

He knows he is taking too long to reply when Adam bodily turns so they are facing each other. His head is tilted to the side, curious, but his eyes hold a different kind of interest. It gives Ronan enough strength to say, “I wanted to see you.”

“You knew I would be here?” Adam frowns.

“Yes.” Honest. Simple. Arousing more questions than giving answers but that’s all he is capable of right now. Go on before they can be asked. “Also I brought something.”

He reaches inside his coat and unclasps the pin hidden within the lining. It is more difficult to let go of than he expected, but he reaches out and offers it to Adam in a palm of his hand. “You dropped this.”

Adam’s eyes widen at the sight of the pin, lips parted in an awed exhale as he tentatively reaches for it. He forgot about the flower in his hand and lets out a weak awkward laugh as it falls into Ronan’s hand when he picks up the accessory. The daisy is weightless, small and already wilting, but Ronan holds on to it and while the other can’t tear his eyes from the pin hides the flower in the folds of his cloak. Somehow, it feels a fair trade.

“Where did you get it?” Adam runs him thumb over the gem again and again but he looks at Ronan when he asks the question. Ronan feels an urge to turn away, to hide, being the center of his attention is too much, Adam’s eyes, Adam’s presence, Adam saying his name. “Ronan?”

“Found it in the grass,” Ronan lies. It comes natural to him, but this time it weighs heavily in his chest. Adam’s eyes narrow, attention pinpoint sharp but he accepts the explanation. Ronan doesn’t understand why, but his mind tells him that Adam doesn’t believe but allows the lie nonetheless.

“Thank you.”

They stay silent, Adam contemplative and Ronan suddenly scared of the things he cannot have. Might have? He wonders and glances at the man at his side, and the longing in him surges up the surface, suffocating. “I should go.” Ronan announces and, not giving himself time to change his mind, gets up.

Adam follows slowly, “What about the Prince?”

“I’ll drag him back to the castle. I think he had enough time to annoy the whole household by this time.” Humor comes easy to them, even if it’s harsh. They share a smile and the air stops feeling so charged.

“Alright,” Adam agrees airily. He is standing still though, obviously unsure of what is expected from him. Ronan has no idea either; he only knows he needs to leave before he does something stupid. Before he _says_ something stupid, like, “I want to see you again.”

Adam isn’t surprised but he is hesitant. He bites on his lip, contemplating. Then nods – one short jerky nod that sends his hair flying. It’s a shaky ‘yes’ but a ‘yes’ anyway.

“Good.” Ronan grins.

Adam, looking more at ease now that he made his decision, holds out a hand. Ronan knows the gesture, understand what Adam is expecting but instead he reaches out and cradles Adam’s fingers gently in his palm. They are as slender as he expected but riddled with callouses and still Ronan relishes the feeling. He waits for Adam to pull away, to step back, but it doesn’t happen. No encouragement, no rejection. There is dust on Adam’s hands and green where he kept holding the daisy between his thumb and forefinger. His skin tastes like Summer when Ronan presses his lips to it. He is tentative and gentle and withdraws soon and takes a step back, letting go completely. Unable to speak he nods in farewell.

It’s impossible to read Adam’s expression. He is not angry at least. Ronan turns to leave, taking the same route back. Just as he lands on the other side of the fence he hears Adam.

“See you again, Ronan!”

He can’t help the grin that won’t disappear for the rest of the day. Gansey is slightly concerned but mostly preoccupied with his lady love. Ronan just wants to go to sleep and dream of beautiful things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate myself for starting this in the Present Tense. If I knew it’d turn into an actual story I’d have gone with Past Tense, but, alas, I’m an idiot. So I'm suffering and fighting the constant need to switch to a better 'time'. Apparently, because of the same reason and since I don’t know how to stop, there will be one more part to this. Honestly though, I love writing this. And I just want to smile and coo at Ronan forever. His infatuation with Adam, both in canon and fanfiction is adorable:)
> 
> Please let me know if you enjoyed the story;)


	3. Adam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me ages to write this thing! Sorry! I got into a Kurofai week in November and it was really difficult to get back to my other fandoms. But here it is! I hope you will enjoy this chapter:D
> 
> I completely disregarded 'Gansey and Blue' story in this chapter. I wanted to shortly mention their progress but it didn't feel natural. Sorry for those who were hoping for any resolution to that situation. If it's any consolation, I'm considering making a bonus chapter from their POVs.
> 
> Some more spoilery notes are at the end.

Adam twirls the pin in his fingers. Again and again, it’s a habit now, something he cannot give up just like the mystery it represents. It leaves him dazed during the day, on slow shifts at the store, and haunts him at nights when he lays awake in his cot, the darkness of the small room and the quiet of a Summer night not enough to lull him to sleep.

He thinks of the person who gave it to him and wonder colors his thoughts a magnificent blue. Blue of Ronan Lynch’s eyes. Funny how just days ago the word tended to awoke a completely different picture in his mind: of messy hair and bright eyes and daring smiles. Now though…now he remembers an ordinarily resentful gaze that turns unexpectedly soft and a sardonic twist of lips that can transform into a sweet smile. And the feeling of magic. It’s different to the one he usually has around the women of Fox Way, different even to the gentle but resistance pulse of Blue’s power. It’s subtle, so much so that Adam had not noticed it at first. That night at the maze everything seemed magical and the power that Ronan Lynch carried was lost in the background noise. The day before, in the backyard of the Fox Way he felt it, distinguished from the hum of female premonitions. But it feels the strongest in the pin Ronan gave him.

Adam knows it isn’t the same one he lost; Persephone didn’t even need to look at it before she announced it Adam’s possession now. Her smile flashed wicked at Adam’s confusion, but it disappeared as quickly as it came; she covered his hand with her own, a pin trapped in-between in a surreal echo of how Ronan held it.

“I think it’s better this way, don’t you?” She never saw the new pin, never laid eyes on the gleam of the stormy blue gem, but Adam was sure she knew…

Adam perks up as a customer wonders into the shop and hides the pin in a pocket of his waistcoat.

He is surprised to see Lynch enter, a huge smile on his young face. A different Lynch, but still an unusual guest.

“How can I help you?” Adam asks while Matthew Lynch looks around curiously. His huge blue eyes, a shade lighter than his brother’s, take in the dank exterior and many shelves with ordinary goods. It must be a novelty for a son of a noble family, Adam thinks.

“I…” Matthew Lynch stretches the word, obviously looking for something to catch his fancy. Adam is starting to suspect that grocery shopping is not his main goal in dropping by. “Those,” he exclaims suddenly, pointing at the jar on the top shelf. “That lemon candy looks good. Is it good?” He turns his keen gaze on Adam, who shrugs.

“Many people buy them.”

He feels Matthew’s gaze on him as he reaches for the jar. He has to struggle slightly to get to the shelf and wavers under the weight of the jar when it finally slips into his hands. He places it on the counter with a dull thud.

“They look even better close up.” Matthew comments. He sounds terribly cheerful – he always does and, strangely, it never crossed into annoying.

Adam has met the boy before, when he helped out with the evening classes at the local school. Matthew attends often enough, despite many tutors who no doubt grill him at the Lynch estate daily. He says he enjoys the company and he learns something new everywhere he goes. His presence is always welcome; Matthew is always nice to everyone, despite his social statue – something that can not be said about the oldest Lynch brother – and he helps the younger kids with their studies a lot. Adam likes him as one likes a pleasant person they barely know but think to be a great human being. They had some interactions before but never anything that could get them past being merely acquaintances.

It isn’t difficult to guess why Matthew Lynch is suddenly so interested in Adam Parrish.

The boy watches, unflinching, as Adam weights some candy for him. He is practically vibrating where he stands a step away from the counter, but good manners prevent him from asking many questions no doubt buzzing in his head. Despite the consuming awkwardness Adam enjoys the silence.

He is wrapping the candy in rough brown paper the shop uses when Matthew finally brakes. “So I heard you talked to Ronan.”

“Maybe,” Adam replies not lifting his eyes from a little bow he is trying to tie with the coarse string.

Matthew hums inquisitively and watches. When nothing else happens he asks again, “Like, more than once?”

Adam heaves a sigh – just so the other would know how uninterested he is in this conversation. “Quite likely.” He replies flippantly but not unkindly; the last thing he wants is to offend Matthew.

“That’s great!” Matthew replies happily. Emboldened, he leans his elbows on the counter and hangs over it. “Brother needs some new friends.”

Adam glances at him and looks away quickly; he thought the younger brother knew about elder’s tastes, but he is in doubt now and it is not Adam’s place to tell. He knows Ronan doesn’t care about social standards; he will fight both the poor and the rich the same, Adam thinks with uncalled fondness, and maybe he will even love the same. Matthew has a lot of friends among the common folk and still, who knows how he will react to something more? So Adam just shrugs, noncommittal, and hands him the package.

Matthey drops some coins onto the counter; they glint in the dim lighting of the shop, and takes his candy. He lingers still though, reluctant to leave but unsure what else to say. He is looking at Adam and for once there is no good natured humor in his eyes; he is serious. Adam waits, gives him time to collect his thoughts and phrase his questions, despite everything, ready to answer.

“You know…” Matthew starts and stops himself. His gaze skitters around the shelves and he bites his lip before continuing with more strength to his voice. “Ronan will be angry if he knows I said this.” He admits. “But I want you to know…I think you can be good for him. And he will be so good to you. Just give it a chance, alright?” He flashes Adam a shy smile and darts through the door.

Adam isn’t sure what to think. First thought that comes to mind is that Ronan Lynch can never be angry with his little brother and then his mind switches to the rest of the admission. There is no one to see but Adam is still embarrassed, and also pleased. He isn’t sure what this thing between him and Ronan is, over-complicated by magic as everything in his life, but he is willing to see where will it lead him. Eager even.

Adam glances around the shop in irrational fear of being watched and gets the pin out again.

It is a perfect replica of the one Persephone gave him, the golden leaf and the twisted decorations feel just the way he remembers, but the gem…the gem at the top – it is pure and beautiful and shines even with the light of one candle to give it life – but the color is new. Persephone gave him a beautiful green, an emerald the deep color of the forest. The one he holds in his palm is blue. A pale blue with a darker grey tint to it, like clouds just before the storm. Adam has absolutely no idea where the color came from. He is intrigued and a little worried. More than anything he wants to ask Ronan, but is hesitant to do so out of fear of chasing him away. No one likes it when people pry into their secrets. But then again, Ronan will be at fault here. If he is not careful then Adam can’t help noticing these small discrepancies about the other man.

He closes his palm until the sharp edge of the pin is digging into his skin. He wants to know, desperately so, for his own sake as well as for Ronan’s.

 

* * *

 

The forest greets Adam as always, with a soft whisper of leaves and a low tune of the wind and soft twinkle of bellflowers. He is always welcome here. He used to be scared of the forest, a long time ago, terrified of the dark pines and creatures that hide behind their branches. He knows now that it’s humans who make the most terrible monsters. Cruel but confident in their right to be so – they could justify any horrible deed. No animal ever pretended to be righteous. Adam’s father did.

He walks through the forest, allowing it to guide his way while his mind is burdened with difficult thoughts. He thinks about the Lynches. Adam wasn’t yet in Henrietta when Niall Lynch was alive but he heard the stories – of a big happy family with a father who was a kind Lord and protected his lands and loved his sons and wife very much, of Aurora Lynch, beautiful as a Summer sunrise, radiant in her happiness, and the three sons, different in looks and spirits but united by love for their family. It all fell apart when the Lord had died. Some say he had been killed during one of his journeys but Adam had heard the whispers…Niall Lynch had been murdered in his own castle, someone had cracked his skull in two – cold-blooded and calculated, just to get to one of his rarities. But as the people whispered, in dark corners or far away in the fields where they cannot be overheard, the murderers never found what they were looking for. Killed a man for nothing, Adam heard one knight spat. The man was roaring drunk and belonged to the Lynch guards. He was out of the job now that the castle stood half empty. None of the Niall Lynch’s children is allowed inside until even the youngest becomes of age. Declan Lynch is running the estate from afar while his youngest brother resides in their second home. Ronan is constantly moving, as if he cannot find a proper place to live. The second family home, taverns or the royal palace serve him as a substitute.

Adam doesn’t have a proper home either. He is always welcome at Fox Way and Maura and Calla had asked him to stay with them more than once. But Adam values his independence – so hard earned – and spends a whole fortune every month to rent a smallest dingiest flat in the whole town. It’s not a home, but it is a shelter and a place to rest his exhausted body and let his tired soul wander.

The forest is the closes thing to a home he has. It accepts him, it needs him, and maybe even it loves him. This is such a strange thing to consider but that is what Adam feels and he keeps it to himself and doesn’t share with anyone.

The forest will never hurt him.

Adam runs his fingers over the crown of a young birch tree and remembers.

_He runs. Everything hurts but he struggles forward and breaks through the bushes at the edge of the small farm and surges into the forest. It’s dark and the trees look like fantastic creatures – horrible monsters waiting to devour him. Adam is terrified but runs and doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down when his feet hit the foliage and braches whip at his face. It stings, but this pain is nothing on all the bruises littering his skin. It’s hard to breathe, his chest is rattling with every inhale and his shin hurts from where he hit it during the fall. He tells himself it’s nothing. It’s his usual prayer to no one._

_Adam runs and fallen branches crunch under his feet and the roots grab at his ancles._

Soft wind rushes through the trees and a branch waves gently, caressing his cheek with its leaves. Adam’s heart rate slows down and his breathing grows even again. He closes his eyes and takes in the smells and sounds of the forest.

_He looks up and there is nothing but darkness overhead – thick branches cover the night sky. Neither the warm glow of the moon nor the cold glare of the stars reaches this dark place. Adam is scared; he cannot breathe properly due to the fear as well as the tired burn in his lungs. His body is crumbling in on itself, exhausted and hurt beyond measure. Adam wonders if he could ever be whole again. Right at that moment, when he stumbles over a root and drops in a crevice by the base of a tree, foliage and grass softening his fall, he feels so broken, so wrong…Tears prickle at his eyes. He did not cry when his father started screaming in rage. He did not cry when the man hit him for the first time, nor did any tears spill when a blow followed another, an endless stream of rage and agony. He did not cry when he fell down and could not stand again. Neither when his father hit him on the side of his head and the world started spinning and Adam lost his grip on reality for a moment. The next thing he knew he was running like mad, escaping the family farm and crossing the field to the forest. He heard footsteps trying to gain on him. And a gunshot._

_Now he settles, cradled in between huge tree roots and rests._

Adam trembles as the canopy over him gets disturbed when a bird takes to the air. A black crow circles over the forest in a search of prey.

_He folds his hands over his chest and squeezes tight, a parody of an embrace but in the darkness of the forest, hidden among the tree roots and its mighty branches he starts calming down. A feeling of safety, protection, comes unexpected but he welcomes a reprise. He relaxes against the hard bark at his back and takes stock of his injuries. There is no place on his body that does not hurt, but most of the pain comes from many bruises and a couple broken bones – it’s nothing he had not dealt with before. The side of his head is bleeding and his left ear does not feel good. The world sounds dull – he realizes it now when the rush of his blood is not the only noise in his head._

_He is tired. Adam knows it’s a bad idea, he needs to go and find help, but he puts his head to the tree, heated forehead against the cool wood, and closes his eyes. He is just so tired._

Adam struggles to hear any more noise but the bird had left and he is alone again. No, he is never alone is the forest, he thinks and it brings a smile to his face. The trees sing to him in their own way, and whisper and sooth his worries. But he only ever heard their voices once. On that night, in a daze of pain and exhaustion he thought it was a dream. An offer of help for help, an exchange that did not seem real. Adam remembers his reluctance, strong even through all the pain wrecking his body. And in the end, his consent. Because what else was there to do?

_He is torn from his daze by a hoot of a night owl. The forest looks the same and yet there is nothing menacing about it anymore. The darkness feels like a friend, a cover of protection, and the trees guide his way. It should take more than a day to cross the forest but Adam is stumbling out of the tree line by dusk. His limp is so bad he can barely walk but he is cautious as he approaches the first house of what looks like a small town._

_A woman greets him by the fence and opens the door with a smile that looks absent-minded though it’s anything but._

Adam knows his way around the forest now, all the paths and small winding routes. He understands how the magic of this place works and, even though he can not speak the language of the trees he understands their needs and offers his help. It’s a delicate balance but Adam is the master of standing on the edge and for the first time in a long time he feels comfortable there. He walks down the roads that no one knows, he explores the places that only chosen had seen – because the forest, _this forest_ , is a magnificent manifestation of magic, a place of wonder, awe-inspiring and terrifying both. Adam relishes in how special this makes him feel.

He embraces the calm of a new day and the balance in nature and magic both. It tingles with warmth on his skin and tastes sweet on his tongue. It’s Summer now, two years since the night that still haunts his dreams sometimes, and his heart is light.

Adam walks slowly, pushes his thoughts away from dark places of his memory and brings up a recent mystery.

A crow cries overhead again so he cringes his neck up – notices a large black bird flying past. Crows are intelligent creatures, he knows, so it’s curious how sentient this particular bird actually is.

He comes up to a small clearing, just a few feet across with pines surrounding it in a neat circle. In the middle is a pond, its surface so dark it looks bottomless. Adam kneels at the bank and dips his fingers into the water. It’s cool even for summer but the small shudder that starts at his tips and spreads through his whole body – that is not the cold, that is magic. He is careful not to look at his reflection; he had tried scrying in this pond only once and barely made it back. Still he likes it here, in this little clearing at the center of the fantastic forest.

He pushes backwards and settles with his back to a tree, closes his eyes and drops into a daze. It is a pleasant day, summer heat turns into simple warmth so deep in the forest. The wind rustles tree tops but it’s quiet down there with the roots. Adam will have to get back into town soon and help out the librarian to reorganize the botany section; it had been a long time coming and finally they have some time to work on that. Adam had read every book in that small corner of the town library, he knows them better than anyone but it will still take most of his evening. The job pays well though – the royal family is very interested in educating the townsfolk and they share the money generously. Sometimes Adam wishes he could just work at the library full time but they don’t need help all that often. So he has morning classes with the kids the next day and helps out at the shop in the evening. And the day after that he is supposed to be helping the blacksmith. Adam knows many jobs, has a lot of skills but nothing draws him in like magic.

Calla had suggested more than once that he start doing readings for money, after all most of the women at Fox Way earn their living like that and they do live pretty comfortably. But Adam refuses every time. Magic is personal for him. Selling this part of himself will feel disconcerting. He shares it willingly when someone approaches with a plea for help but he does not put a price. It feels wrong to him. Maybe it’s because he is still not completely used to his gift. Adam was not born with it; he wields the powers given to him freely but still, in his mind and his heart both, it appears as if a great fantasy. A dream that will have to end. He tells himself it is a stupid notion, waves it away every time it rears its head. He thinks he will get used to this, one day, but he is also apprehensive of losing the wonder and awe the magic inspires in him.

Adam opens his eyes when he hears someone else approach the clearing. He is strangely not surprised when Ronan Lynch emerges from the trees on the other side of the pond.

“Hello,” Adam greets as if they merely bumped into each other on the street.

A big black bird caws and takes flight, the branch it had been sitting on waves urgently. Lynch’s eyes follow the bird’s flight, all the way until it disappears behind the crown of the trees up high. Only then does he look at Adam “Hey.”

As Ronan walks around the pond Adam takes the moment to study him. He is dressed plainly, pants and a shirt and the leather jacket – could be mistaken for a villager if not the obvious good quality of the fabrics. He has mud on his boots like he had been traipsing through the forest for hours and his jacket has scratches on one shoulder. Ruffled and a little rough he looks even better than the polished version from the ball.

“What are you doing here?” Ronan wonders, more like he is addressing himself rather Adam, and sits on the ground by Adam’s side. Their bent knees are almost touching. Adam’s mind fixates on that detail, strange as it is.

“Having a walk.” He shrugs, tears his gaze away from Ronan’s knees and the mud straining them and looks away at the forest. Even with the other here the peace of the clearing is not disturbed.

Ronan grunts in lieu of an answer. Adam feels his gaze, studying, on the side of his face. Stares resolutely ahead. “What about you?”

“Same.” Ronan looks away finally. His picks at the crusted half-moon of brown mud on his thigh. “This forest can be dangerous.”

“Not for me,” Adam admits. It’s easy, when he feels like the forest accepts them both.

“Yeah…” Ronan breathes out.

They stay silent for a long time, each burdened with his own thoughts but those thoughts inevitably revolving around the other. Finally Adam reaches into his breast pocket and takes out the pin. It’s warm against his palm, a pleasant weight even despite the sharp end. He keeps his hand closed, for now, but turns his head to look at Ronan.

“What are you?” He asks blandly.

It’s obvious the other is thrown by the question. Ronan’s eye grow big, for mere second, surprised then weary until his features settle into heavy frown. Just a moment before he was relaxed and friendly now the hostility is radiating from him in waves.

“What do you mean?”

Adam bites on his lip, reeling back in the words that threaten to spill. He needs to be more cautious. “You have some powers, don’t you?”

“Like the witches?” Ronan scoffs.

“No, not like them.” Not like me, Adam thinks. But then, there is no one else quite like him. He suspects that might be right for Ronan as well. “Something else.”

It looks like Ronan is deliberating leaving; storming off never to talk to Adam again, but something settles inside of him soon and he watches Adam back, closely and carefully. His expression is still guarded but curious also. “What makes you say that?”

Adam smirks. It’s so unexpected it throws Ronan for a loop once more. “What?” Impatient now. Worried too.

Adam extends his hand and opens his palm – it’s a mirror of the moment when Ronan gave him this gift. But instead of taking the pin Ronan just stares at him, incomprehensive.

“Why did you choose this color?” Adam asks. There are so many questions that fight for his attention, but this was always at the forefront. Not _how_ , but _why_? The gem gleams in the weak light, stormy grey and beautiful. Ronan glances at it, then back at Adam – he doesn’t realize. Strangely, it makes Adam smile fondly. He holds the pin in between his thumb and middle finger and turns it slowly so that the rare rays of the sun, those that manage to fight their way through the canopy, play and flicker on the smooth sides of the gem. They reflect into a myriad of colors that fall onto the grass below and the trunk of the tree at their backs and spread over Ronan’s cheeks. They look like freckles born out of rainbow, bright and magical. Ronan squints and the shadows of his eyelashes paint an even stranger picture on his skin. It easy to believe, in a moment like this, hidden from the world and surrounded by miracles, that Ronan himself is a creature born of magic.

He reaches for the pin and covers the gem with his thumb, breaking off the glare. Adam tugs it back, playful, and Ronan lets him. He holds the pin lower though, away from the stray rays of the sun. “This is not the same pin I lost that night,” he says, watches Ronan frown.

“How do you know?”

Not denying it. That’s good, Adam decides. He likes Ronan’s honesty. He is trying to keep his secrets but if asked outright he will spill them. That’s not what Adam wants though; no matter how curious he is dragging the truth out of Lynch will not make him happy. To be trusted with that truth, to be handed it willingly – that’s what Adam hopes for.

He smiles, tentatively at first, and then, unable to contain himself, grins. He enjoys Ronan’s confusion. Something only Adam knows; he is about to tell it, yes, but drags this fleeting moment out. “Mine had an emerald.” He tries to keep his voice natural, nonchalant, but the glee spills over and shines through.

Ronan’s eyes grow wide, again it is only for a second, he never allows emotion to take over for long, and then he is looking down sheepishly. He knows he made a mistake; he also knows it won’t cost him much, if anything at all. He keeps quiet still.

Adam glances at the pin one more time and hides it in his palm. “Alright,” he says decisively and looks out at the forest. “How about I tell you something curious?”

“What?”

“This forest…” He waves his other hand to indicate the tress surrounding them. “It hasn’t always been here.”

“That’s nothing surprising,” Ronan contradicts.

Adam nods and continues, “I’ve found something strange in the archives. A list of the lands; all that belong or once belonged to the royal family.” He casts a side-long glance at his companion to keep track of the reaction; he gets only a confused frown. “You see, ages ago this place,” and now he pats the grass under his fingers. “Used to be a plain. Fields stretched as far as the eye could see.” His straying into poetry earns Adam a snort but he is happy to see that Ronan is following the story. “And then the Lynch family came.”

Adam turns his gaze to Ronan, trying to judge if the other knows where the story is going. But Ronan looks as confused and curious as before. Interesting. “A wealthy family but not noble. Not yet. Merchants and traders they were.”

“Still are,” Ronan adds. If it wasn’t already obvious how easily he disregards his noble status it reads clearly in his tone now.

“The head of the family, and public records have no name for him, he did some huge favor for the king. I’m vague on the details, it cold rage from saving the life of the royal heir to preventing a war, but the king was so grateful he gifted the man lands and a title.”

Ronan shrugs, “Yes, so what?”

“This land.” Adam buries his fingers in the grass again. “This forest,” his voice rises. “Belongs to the Lynch family.”

Ronan’s face scrunches as if he is facing something atrociously disgusting. “It does, but it doesn’t matter. Everyone is welcome.”

This startles a laugh out of Adam and he is tempted to point out that the forest is not as welcoming as Ronan.

“That is not the most interesting part of my story,” Adam points out instead.

“Well, get on with it then.”

“The curious things is…” Adam holds a pause just to torment Ronan a little more. “When the land was gifted it was listed as ‘fields’. No forest. Not even a smallest grove.” He speaks over Ronan’s protest of disinterest. “But the next year, when the toll from the land was counted it was ‘a forest’. A huge magnificent forest – that it an actual footnote from the author.” Adam smirks as he finishes and watches Ronan’s confusion turn into genuine surprise. He keeps quiet for way too long. “You did not know that?”

Ronan shakes his head. “That’s…” He doesn’t finish, just trails off and grows silent again.

Adam pushes with his hands on the ground and leans into him, “You know where the forest came from, don’t you?” He feels like he is pushing too much, but he is too curious, too excited to hold back and he watches the emotions shift on Ronan’s face, drinks him in. Finally, Ronan nods. “Is it the same with the pin?”

Ronan nods again. And then, he turns and stares right into Adams’s eyes, unblinking and intense. “I dream things into being.” He says and it’s a phantasmagorical thing, a myth Adam had never heard before, never even imagined, and yet it fits. Pieces fall into place – he believes so easily, trusts Ronan’s words, Ronan’s power. He is breathing hard, they both are, scared and excited and just a little light-headed.

“Alright.” Adam mutters at least.

“Alright.” Ronan echoes.

And the next thing that happens is just as unexpected; is just as easy. Ronan kisses him. Adam is so lost in the feeling of him: warm breath on his skin, soft lips on his, pressing so infinitely gently – for all the rough edges there are to him, Ronan is surprisingly sweet and careful – that Adam does not notice him steal a pin from his hand. Ronan moves away and Adam find himself leaning into him before he comes to his senses. He tears his gaze from Ronan’s face, eyes so bright and lips so red, and looks down.

“I screwed up, didn’t I?” Ronan asks sardonically.

“Kind of, yes.” Adam smiles. “But that’s alright.” He traces the golden leaves of the pin with his fingers and presses them to the gem on top. It is stormy grey with a beautiful blue tint to it when the light falls just right. He wants to ask where the color came from, why did Ronan’s consciousness picked this shade but it seems like too much. Too soon.

“I like this one better,” he blurts out, impulsively. It’s so uncharacteristic for him, Adam lowers his head bashfully; feels the heat rise to his cheeks.

“Good.” Ronan sounds just as shy.

Adam holds on one end of the pin while Ronan supports the other and leans over it to press his forehead to Ronan’s. Closes his eyes. Enjoys the moment. Hopes he can keep this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone notice that Ronan screwed up in the previous chapter?XD I've been sitting on that peice of information for so long, I'm excited to get it out now!:D BTW can anyone guess where the new color of the stone came from? I promise it's terribly cheesy!
> 
> I couldn't help adding the actual Cabeswater here! Changed the history to fit this AU, both for Ronan and Adam, but, hey, it is an AU;)
> 
> Let me know what you think!


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